For a moment, Merrin lets the touch linger, her fingers curling around his palm to fill the space left behind when he relaxes. The contact is supposed to be comforting, but the truth is, she probably draws just as much comfort from it as she'd intended to bestow. There's something... reassuring in knowing that they understand each other in this. That they're not alone.

Exhaling, she takes his hand and presses the lightsaber into his palm, folding his fingers around the hilt with hers laid on top of his. "You are not alone this time," she says gently. A small, soft smile pulls at her lips—fleeting, but very sincere.

He might not have his order, and she might not have her sisters, but... they've adapted to each other.